Elith summoned what courage she could and stepped into the path as the handsome stranger passed.
“Excuse me, Sir,” she said deferentially.
The man stopped and quickly raised his staff, holding it in both hands, close to his body, the left end below knee level and the other end, the one adorned with carved runes, at his shoulder. He blinked once, then his eyes focused on the bedraggled fairy in front of him. He appeared to realize she presented no threat and abandoned his defensive posture. He lowered the staff and Elith noticed the muscles in his arms and chest relax. At a future time, she would look back on this moment and realize it was the first time she ever appreciated a man as a man. Jerzy, the boy she had skipped school with, sure didn’t make her insides flutter this way!
The bearded man looked her up and down. Elith felt blood rush to her face and averted her eyes. “Yes?” He spoke softly, but his baritone voice seemed to carry on the night air.
Preacher, thought Elith. Trained to project his voice, to fill an entire amphitheater with his words. But no … All the priests and preachers she knew were fat, useless slobs. “Sir …” For some reason, the words didn’t want to come. “Sir, I am lost. I don’t know anyone. Can you help me?”
The man’s expression softened, but not so much it could be called a smile. He looked at her, blinked again. “I cannot.” A perfect bass voice for a perfect man. “I must hurry on my way.” He extracted a coin from a drawstring purse attached to his belt. “Take this. It’s not much, but you can buy a meal, at least.”
He handed Elith a ten-pula coin and strode off without a backward glance.
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